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I have been toying with the idea of attempting to prove, via philosophical argument, the conclusion that we actually do live in hell. Yes, though technically a planet, I posit that Earth is in fact also a realm within which God orchestrates as many opportunities to forgive (i.e. tragedies, injustices, and tragic injustices) as possible and achieves this by giving us each a survival instinct that renders us overwhelmingly subject to tendencies to be a) hungry b) tired c) curious d) horny e) competitive and f) violent and only through rigorous training (religious programming, societal norm-learning, rigorous parenting) are our natural tendencies broken down and through the regular practice of resisting temptation or avoiding punishment are we cajoled to be moderate in our responses to these survival instinct urges.
I think it would be too hard to prove though. Especially because I don’t want to use religious texts as sources.
So instead, I’ve resorted to referring to Earth, our world, as a dungeon. My present thesis is: All of Earth is a dungeon and one day God lets us out via the mercy of our inevitable natural death.
There is more to say on the topics of God, love, life, consent, freedom, free will, and death (including suicide where we use our free will to choose to no longer consent to be alive and subsequently let ourselves out of the dungeon), but this post is for specifically delineating what it means to be a human woman. Recently, Matt Walsh asked people on the street, “what is a woman?” and the answer that kept bubbling up in my mind was that it has meant for me an existence spent in near constant fear of being raped and getting pregnant from that rape, a hypervigilance that especially permeated my awareness in my teens and 20’s.
So today I state my answer to this question of what a woman is. A woman is a female human being who has a uterus which can, during a finite period of years during her life, gestate another human, ensuring the very survival of humanity itself.
And a man is a male human being who has testes which act as the origin of sperm which can, during a finite period of his life, fertilize a human woman, ensuring the very survival of humanity itself. In order to fertilize her, he must have an orgasm.
The human female need neither experience orgasm (or even non-orgasmic sexual pleasure) nor give consent in order to be fertilized.
(Because … wait for it … we live in hell!)
There’s a very funny comedienne named Nikki Glaser who does a routine about how everyone here is here today because some guy came. Starting at 4:10 …
The problem is that we don’t know if everyone here is here today because some woman (our/their mom, grandma, great grandma, great great grandma, great great great grandmother) consented to, enjoyed, or orgasmed during sex. Maybe one of those things applied to the fertilizing act of coitus, and possibly none of those things applied (because we live in … you get it).
And this is where the greatest supply and demand horror show ever devised begins.
For men, sex equals orgasm.
(Please, we’re not referring to people with geriatric dick; they’re not fertilizing anyone without pharmaceutical assistance and rarely inhabit a partnership where fertilization is even on the table.)
For women, sex might mean pleasure, it might mean orgasm, it might mean rape. It doesn’t “equal” orgasm.
If every time I open a present, I love it, I’m always going to look forward to my birthday.
If sometimes I open a present and it’s humiliating, degrading, the last thing I was wanting to do at that moment, possibly associated with coercion, force, fear, violence, blood, regret, pain, and only sometimes associated with pleasure, to say nothing of the slim chance of orgasm during a “part b into slot a” interaction, well then? I might not look forward to my birthday (but I might hype birthdays up to other girls my age in order to dupe them into thinking birthdays are awesome so that I get to know they experienced the same suffering/embarrassment/regret I did or I might even withhold information from my own daughter to make sure she does it and gets it over with so I get grandchildren – the possible motives are endless).
If one entire HALF of a population always enjoys Thing X, they become the party that wants it: the customer. They are on the demand side of the supply and demand graph.
And if the other half of a population comes to associate Thing X with a fundamental injustice (i.e. orgasm disparity: how come he always has an orgasm and I rarely/never do?), they then become the party that provides it, the supplier. They are on the supply side of the graph. (Yes, there are exceptions. We’ll get to it!) And the more I resent that disparity, the more I might leverage Thing X as a service to barter. Or, I might opt out of that marketplace altogether if I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the horror of such an unfair premise.
These supply and demand roles flip when the product is pregnancy and the man becomes the provider and the woman becomes the customer, if/when the female has delayed allowing sex to naturally result in pregnancy and is now under biological pressure to get pregnant as the survival instinct clock counts down.
(Profanity alert – please stop reading if certain words offend you!!)
In my follow up to this stack, I will delineate and describe the terms slut, whore, bitch and cunt; and how each player affects the supply, demand, and value of first sex and then pregnancy, both wanted and unwanted. The supply and demand dynamic I have described above really only pertains to average straight men and women who want to be in a partnership (so only the vast majority of humanity). Women who experience pleasure from the act of sex (of the part b into slot a, consensual variety) that is greater than the pleasure of clitoral orgasm are rare but they are out there. I posit that slut and whore are temporary stages of a particular woman’s sex life rather than defining labels and have observed this in many women I’ve met who eventually entered a monogamous partnership after such a phase. (More on this in the follow-up post. Also, clearly, literal prostitutes are not who I refer to with the vernacular “whore.”)
Now, I am a woman (spoiler alert!) and I have female friends who have confided in me and I also know firsthand how amazing sex is with a certain type of man. (I have concluded that while it appears that there are types of sex, there are really only types of men — but I will continue to research this hypothesis.) I also know that a lot of women aren’t having orgasms during sex: these are the average women mentioned above who usually feel frustrated, high and dry, and often disappointed after p in v sex (and loooooove getting eaten out). This is tragic (not the oral sex part lol). And I mean, truly devastatingly tragic because there is no reason in this day in age to feel unsatisfied now that we have handheld battery operated devices to assist! Ladies, please, go buy yourself a magic bullet and remedy this situation. He wants you to come – and if it were as simple to get you the friction you need as it is for him to get the friction he needs, he would do it!
Why isn’t the clitoris inside the vagina? Anyone know? Seems odd. Huh. Oh wait, no … it actually makes … perfect sense … once you remember, we live in hell!!
And guess what (I assume you’re curious and I think it’s germane), because of religion, I waited waaaaay too long to have sex. And it wasn’t only because of religion but, as mentioned in previous posts, I did attend all-girls Catholic school and later a women’s college, and the rhetoric influenced me to no small degree. I was terrified of getting pregnant if I had sex. Nothing is 100% effective at preventing pregnancy and there was nothing scarier to me than the potential poverty my own fertility could inflict upon me. In my 20’s, I barely made enough money to take care of myself — the terror of having to take care of another person, vulnerable and completely dependent on me, kept me on high alert. Penis! Baby! Poverty! Run away!! Yes, I’m pro-choice. For you. Abortion is not a choice I would make. (Please see my post about the 6 things my mom taught me about abortion for more of my thoughts on the topic.) Ah, you thought it was the “save sex for marriage” Catholic school rhetoric that influenced me? No, it was the “abortion is murder” rhetoric. (It is — I wouldn’t wish life on earth on anyone though.)
Another cause of my late blooming was that I was sooooo sure that I was going to meet my soulmate — any day — and he would be a person I could (reduce the) risk (of) parenthood with, together. He wouldn’t mind cycle beads and Basal body temperature tracking to avoid fertile days and would share all my unique political and spiritual views and also literally believe that we were twin flames, designed and destined for each other by God! But … that day I imagined of looking into another person’s eyes and realizing, it’s you!! didn’t happen in my 20’s or 30’s (let’s see how my 40’s go — yes, we live in hell but I have observed several soulmate relationships here; and death is the only thing that could keep me from continuing my search). I firmly believe in marriage and monogamy as a cultural anchor and view family ties as the structure that saves society from chaos. I salute the bravery of people who would risk divorce. And I still (!!) believe in soulmates. But the longing and yearning for that one person hurts so much less now that I (can, sometimes) have sex. Seriously. If I could tell my 25 year old self to go for it, (and how beautiful and amazing the penis is!) I would.
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Speaking of the penis, here’s a video of me reading a poem I wrote called “Men, Men, Magical Men”
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The following should be considered a brief aside: Some readers will send me links to examples of scenarios where a cattle prod was used on a man to “force” his ejaculation. This is absurd — not every Law and Order: SVU plot is actually and truly ripped from the headlines. And men do not have to be vigilant about groups of women in foreign countries ganging up on them to collect a non-consent based sperm sample or read newspaper reports about such (fantastical and nonexistent) crimes. This is a lot like saying, hey Sarah, here’s an article about a person who won the lottery twice in the same decade — see, an exception! Gambling isn’t so bad!
Yes, it is. Gambling is immoral, unethical and unjust. The “exception” only further proves the rule and the rule is that people who win only win because other people lost. People — many people — had to lose in order for that guy to win twice. If they hadn’t all lost, your article guy couldn’t have won. Not once. Not twice. And not as much money as he did (after years of loss) eventually win.
Because … wait for it … we live in hell!
(I morally object far less to sweepstakes by the same token: winners win at no expense to others. Yes, some time was lost/wasted by the people who don’t win but the winner doesn’t get the lost minutes of the non-winning players. The winner’s winnings is comprised of advertising revenue. Their length of time on earth – the winner’s lifespan – isn’t increased one single iota. And the people who didn’t win aren’t losers, they simply didn’t win. I.e. there’s no transfer of money.)